Dragging Love

It's been days when the scandal of ruination staged by Baroness Krona ravaged the entire kingdom of Clevon. Days that have Nicholas on edge as he waits for any news or summon from the Archduke himself, or a request of duel. The prior missive the Archduke Clermont sent was not a summon at all. It's only a missive informing him of the Royal man's disownment of his own daughter. It astounded Nicholas. He never thought that His Highness, Archduke Clermont would be true to his words and disowned his only child.

Once again, he wondered about the reaction of the Baroness to her disownment. Some part of Nicholas, against his will, his well-being, worried a little.

"My lord, I would suggest a walk outside for fresh air. You have been coop in the study for days now. Mrs. Moore is starting to terrorize the whole household," The butler's solemn words were spoken with a hint of pleading. In Nicholas' understanding, Bertha, the headmaid, must have been pestering everyone over the well-being of the manor's lordship, and poor Lawrence was not part of the exemption.

Finally, a smile broke free from Nicholas' lips. Bertha was almost a parent to him, and if she worried over someone, be it the lord of the house or the servants, she would turn the manor upside down just to get to the heart of the matter. Solving it in her most earnest, motherly ways.

And speaking of the strict but kind Mrs. Moore, the door to the study was slammed open as the headmaid stride in, wearing a blank face. Nicholas went rigid, he knows that expression and he is in for trouble if he won't abide Bertha's words at once.

"With all due respect, my lord," said Mrs. Moore, reminding him of a governess. "Would you fancy a walk in the gardens or would you rather have Allan and John assist you with it?" She continued. The footmen puffed their chest behind Mrs. Moore, ready to do her bidding. He might be a tall and strapping man, nevertheless, the footmen would give him a run of his barony. They could easily assist him if they wanted to do so.

The words were brimming with politeness, but he was acquainted with the headmaid's words in this kind of situation. Nicholas understood that the word assist meant dragging. The footmen would drag him outside to the gardens. He would have none of it, of course.

He stood up from his seat, only wearing his plain shirt and trousers, and went straight for the door. "Of course, Bertha, I'd love to roam the gardens," he pasted a wobbling smile on his lips and marched out of the study, long well-muscled legs working the stairs quickly in case the Headmaid would decide he needed the assistance anyway. The thoughts burdening Nicholas' mind vanishes in an instant.

~

The original destination changed and Nicholas found himself helping one of the tenants from weeding the field crawling with unripe melons. He was enjoying a lively exchange with Mario, the tenant, about the coming harvest. This is one of the works he missed as a farmer as he was always flooded with ledgers and statements, spending almost the whole day in the study. Toiling the lands with his own hands is a rare occurrence. Doing it now made him realize that he would do it again as often as he can. It's a good past time.

"Milord!" Nicholas snapped his head in the direction of the childish voice and saw Collette, Mario's youngest child, as she ran her way through the field, careful not to step on the growing fruits. He straightened from his hunched position, gifting the child, aged six, with an indulging smile.

"Is it ready, pumpkin?" He asked, pertaining to the cooling drink he requested to be prepared from the manor. The field is only a few minutes away from the manor. He was glancing behind the child to see if any of the footmen was bringing a jug with them containing the cool drink. He might have missed the dirty work, but he could do without the sun blaring on his back for long hours. A cooling drink would be appreciated, indeed.

"Nay, I mean, aye. It has been prepared and ready in the manor, but you have a visitor milord. Mrs. Moore told me to bring you back with me, and papa too. She said Mrs. Buckwheat has some delicious muffin a cookin'," The child excitedly disclosed.

His eyebrows meet in a frown. A visitor at this time? He is not expecting anyone. He tried rummaging his head for any missed social calls and appointments, and grinned when he finally remembered Mr. Vante, a merchant intending to sell sweets in the Barony.

Of course, the Barony already has a stall that sells a limited number of sweets, and at the same time sells other crops. However, Mr. Vante, wanted to solely sell sweets of unlimited kinds. A stall solely for such heavenly treats.

He dusted his dirty hands and turned to Mario. "Come with me to the manor for some refreshments, Mario. Bring Winona along, and Wilson too," He told the man who grinned to him widely. Winona is the good man's wife and Wilson being their oldest child.

"Aye, milord, we'd follow you after I put the baskets back to the shack," He nodded in affirmation, gathering the big baskets meant for collecting weeds. Little Collete was quick-witted and ran to help her father, dragging the smallest basket with her small hands.

He chuckles in amusement, "I'll head first, Mario," He said, tracing the path back to the manor. Due to the sweat currently bathing his cotton shirt, he took his shirt off, using it to fan himself before flinging it upon his left shoulder. Thinking about a store of sweets right in the yard of his home lifted his mood quite significantly.

He hummed his way merrily, grinning in content.

~

She's beyond livid. She has journeyed for almost five days but it did not lessen her lividity against the outcome of her father's machinations. To top it off, she was traveling in a carriage not fitting for a royal at all. Every bump and shake of the cramped conveyance was like a fuel to the fire already burning inside her. In her gloved hands, a poor letter was crushed without care.

Astrid could not believe the situation she was currently in. She could not believe her father, Archduke Clermont, meant his words and disowned her without a bat of an eyelash the following days after he sent the letter. The humiliation she experienced after being chased away from her own villa was tremendous. To think she invited her close confidants for a whole week gathering in her villa, a week meant for amusements and carnal happiness. Instead, she was met with her luggage packed and ready on the threshold, and hauled to a creaky carriage she was presently in with not a moment longer.

All of her confidants, including her, decided to travel together and it was one of things she regretted with vehemence. If ever she's going to organize a gathering once more, she would not have her visitors arrive all together.

She had to scream her lungs out to the damning butler, just to let her in and take an important paper on one of her secret drawers. Everything was a blur of confusion in that moment, however, a burst of ridiculous thought invaded her mind, pushing her to extract the said papers inside the villa.

Manhandled, she was almost thrown out of the villa with her confidants watching the scenario unfold right before their eyes after the household staff escorted her from retrieving the blasted paper.

With the humiliation tailing right behind her, she did not pay her confidants attention and lift herself up the carriage. She went traveling to the Clermont Palace at once, intending to appeal to her father, however, she was denied access and was treated poorly.

"The audacity," She hissed, remembering the way the servants shooed her out of the very Palace she was birthed and lived for almost all of her life. She was turned away like a beggar! Oh, how she wanted to whip those servants to death.

When she was denied entrance to the Palace, she decided to stay on Château Fleur. Oliver removed his wife from the château right after their conversation. Remembering Melissa Wrenthford ignited another burning anger inside her. The daft woman miscarried while traveling away from Château Fleur.

"Daft wench," She cursed in anger. It would have been convenient if Melissa lost the babe a month after being removed from the Château, not right after. She wouldn't be in this sticky situation if not for that stupid miscarriage and that idiotic Lady Leorick.

Now, she could not reach Oliver and was also chased out of the Château. She was also denied services in all of the inns and hotels around Clevon.

"Blasted hell!" She screeched, crumpling the letter in her hand further.

The conveyance ran over another hump, sending Astrid off the box, and hitting her head on the wooden panel beside her. Expletives were wrung out of her lips as a tremor of pain resonated all over her head. It would surely leave a bump on the side of her head where it collided with the panel. She vowed for vengeance right there and then.